


Rebellion Leads to Consequences

by ladybugwarrior



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Protective Clark Kent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9883802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybugwarrior/pseuds/ladybugwarrior
Summary: Damian is grounded from patrolling one night so he decides to take Jon Kent out into the streets of Gotham for some unsupervised crime fighting. Jon ends up getting injured and Batman has to explain the situation to an incredibly angry Clark Kent.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will most likely be three small parts. I started writing this today because I'm sick at home and got bored. I'll most likely stay home sick tomorrow as well to finish this off.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've recently edited this and changed quite a few things after not touching it for about a year. The main addition is mentioning Dick (I'm playing with the timelines a little I know that Dick was undercover when Damian first met Jon don't match up but it's for the plot so i'm playing it a little fast and loose with the timelines)

“Father, get Pennyworth to prepare the med bay!”

Bruce Wayne stood and the chair he had sat toppled. Damian was not supposed to be out on patrol tonight, he was at least four homework assignments behind. Bruce had become aware of his sons absence four hours ago. After searching the streets of Gotham he had gone back to the cave, waiting to lecture and scold his son. Now the annoyance swapped out with dread for his child. If Damian had injured himself on patrol without the Batman, Bruce would never forgive himself for not looking harder. Then, after Damian healed, Bruce would not let his son out of his sight for weeks. Had Dick not been currently undercover with Spiral, Bruce would have called him to coddle his brother during his recovery. He hoped that would be enough to keep Damian from going rouge.

Then he saw the small red, yellow, and blue boy his son had draped over his shoulder. A pool of blood grew underneath them.

Clark was going to kill him.

“Alfred, protocol green!” He ran over to the two children and grabbed the youngest one from his son. There was a wound above Jon’s left hip, turning the blue on his uniform and the field dressing a deep red. His face pale and glistened with sweat, signs of kryptonite poisoning. Clark was definitely going to kill him; then Lois would bring him back and kill him herself.

“I do say Master Clark, the amount of times that you come here bleeding on my floors has grown to be tiring.” Alfred said with a lengthy sigh as he entered the main room of the Batcave. He was as composed as ever. Until the sight of the youngest member of the Kent family bleeding out brought a gasp forward.

“Alfred, prep med bay for a stomach wound, kryptonite poisoning, and possibly a collapsed lung.” Bruce carried Jon Kent over to an examination table, the blood trailed behind him ignored.

“What happened to the lad?” Alfred began cutting away the child’s uniform top.

Bruce looked over to his son. “That is what I’d like to know.”

Damian didn’t make eye contact with him, he kept his eyes on Jon as Alfred attempted to staunch the blood flow. The anger stirring in Bruce softened, it was so easy to forget that Damian was only twelve years old. A child that saw his younger friend get injured, but this friend was Superman’s son. Bruce needed every last detail before he called a father almost as protective as himself.

“Robin, what happened?” Using his hero name always filled him with more confidence and clarity.

Damian took his eyes off of Jon to look at his father. He was angry, furious, and something else that Bruce didn’t see very often in the child. Fear for his friend, repressed beneath years of training. But nothing escaped Batman’s watchful eye.

“Kent and I were on a mission, an arms dealer new in Gotham. I underestimated him. He possessed Kryptonite bullets that he was planning to smuggle. Kent was an idiot and tried jumped in front of one to save me. I removed the bullet, but he isn’t recovering from the kryptonite poisoning as the speed of his father.”

Jumping in front of a bullet was a Kent move, like father like son. This was a conversation that he was dreading with each passing minute.

“Master Bruce, the young sir is waking up.” Alfred brought a pen light up to Jon’s eyes that were blinking, unfocused. “Master Jon. can you understand me?”

“Careful, Alfred. He doesn’t know how to control his powers.” Bruce feared that in such a state Jon would lose what control he had gained and he powers would go haywire.

“He is a boy, Master Bruce. One that is in a considerable amount of pain.” Alfred’s patient began to whine and writhe on the table he was laying on. “Hush now, Master Jon. You’ll be alright, and we will call your father promptly.”

Tears began to fall down Jon’s eyes and every muscle in his body tightened as he began to sob in agony.

“Dad,” he yelled in a broken cry. “I want my dad.”

Bruce and his son froze as Alfred continued to shush the child between them.

Damian looked up at his father. “Do you think that was loud enough?”

“BRUCE,” came a roar that startled the bats above.

“Yes, I do.” Bruce turned around to see Clark brimming with anger. Until he saw his son.

“Jon!” Clark flew over to his son who continued to cry for his father. When he spoke it was gentle in tone. “Hey, Jonno. It’s going to be okay, just breathe.”

Jon began to rise of the table, floating inch by inch until his father  pushed him down against the firm mattress. “Alfred, could you please sedate him?”

“Are we certain that is safe due to his, unusual physiology.” Alfred asked even as he prepared the sedative.

“I ran scans on him after fell out of tree and got a concussion, the sedative shouldn’t harm him.” He ran his hand through Jon’s hair in an attempt to ease his son. “Hurry, please.”

Alfred judcted the sedative into Jon’s arm and began his work of cleaning the bullet wound. “The sedative should take hold in the next few moments. Might I suggest that you carry on your conversation once the boy has fallen asleep. He has been through enough."

Clark nodded, and kept his attention on his son as he drifted off into induced sleep. The second he heard Jon’s heart grow slow and keep steady in his slumber he rose and turned to the Bats.

“What happened?”


End file.
